


only seventeen, but she walks the streets so mean

by thesockhop



Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Episode: s01e04 Middle Game, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesockhop/pseuds/thesockhop
Summary: Someone else joins Beth in the pool in Mexico.
Relationships: Vasily Borgov/Beth Harmon
Comments: 23
Kudos: 131





	only seventeen, but she walks the streets so mean

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Carmen by Lana Del Rey.

Underwater, the world is muted. She can play chess on the watery ceiling, lungs forcing her to move quickly. Beyond the present, her chest ready to burst and reality feels distant. Like her mother’s words aren’t echoing in her head, hollowed out by the past tense. Like one day, they might even become ignorable. (The thought is grimly amusing, didn’t hold true for her first mother’s.)

(‘ _If you ever want to truly destroy something darling, you must first fully possess it._ ’)

Her attention is drawn to the far side of the pool, as if beckoned, someone steps in. Not the brothers thankfully, too tall, doesn’t think she could deal with them very well in her current state. The person is walking closer, feet dragging through the water, a distorted image slowly becoming recognizable. 

She gasps, chlorine flooding her mouth as she breaks surface. 

Borgov. 

Borgov is in her damn pool. 

“я сожалею.” 

They haven’t gone over that phrase in class, but it isn’t hard to guess. There’s pity in his eyes, and anger spikes through her. It wasn’t enough for him to beat her, wasn’t enough to take up the last moment of mother’s – 

“Your loss,” he speaks slowly. “I am sorry.” 

Beth wants to spit out a curse, demand to know if he means the game or her mother, bites her mouth shut. She wants to rip into him, tear apart his perfect bureaucratic facade with her nails. Fury overwhelms the ever-present fear about him, his flesh unprotected and bare. 

So very bare. 

She’s never seen him like this. Alone, without his family or agents, without his suit, wearing even less than she. She wants to mark him up, to have physical proof that she’s affected him somehow. 

Sharp pain cuts through the haze as she inches closer to him. She broke skin, sweet copper on her lips. Doesn’t know if it is new or reopened, the details are insignificant. This close to Borgov, she can hear him breathing, feel the warmth, all that holds weight are her emotions. 

“Thank you,” she says, low and soft. Insincere, as all statements are that pass her lips relating to mother’s death. 

She places her hands on his damp shoulders, pressing down, can’t help the surprise flashing across her face as Borgov allows himself to be lowered in the pool. Sinks him so they’re eye level. 

Beth kisses him, kisses him until her lips burn and her blood is smeared over his mouth. 

Borgov is still as a statue, looks precisely as he did when they played chess. Allows her to make whatever move she wants: to scratch the back of his neck, to lick deeper into his mouth, to pull at his hair, to press herself all against him. 

He’s so damn passive she wants to scream. 

Beth glares at him instead, at that terrible pity in his eyes. Her hands slap down against the water, splashes ear-splittingly loud in the silence. She leaves, can’t stand another moment of his stillness. 

One day, she’s going to destroy him. 

(‘ _I’ve seen your future dear, it’s blinding._ ’)


End file.
